Rising from the ashes
by Griffindorrox
Summary: Tony was not alone with Yinsen those months held captive by the ten rings. A Harry Potter changed by the events in the Chamber of Secrets was also there, and the two escape together. A super!Harry story
1. Chapter 1

Pain.

It was all Harry knew.

Pain. Burning. A flash of red. Burning. A shout. Burning. And finally darkness.

When Harry woke up, he was told it had been thee days since he and Ron went down into the chamber.

It felt like years.

Years of burning and burning, as if fire were flowing through his veins instead of blood.

He didn't remember getting out of the chamber of secrets, but he supposed he must have, as he woke up in the hospital wing, Hermione sitting next to his bed waiting for him to wake up. All he could remember was the basilisk biting him, and Fawkes crying into the wound, and then burning.

Hermione had screamed when he first woke and looked around, partly because the sheets had begun to smoke, and partly because his eyes had changed. The whites were completely gone, leaving a large pupil surrounded by green, the way he remembered Fawkes' looking when he had cried into his arm.

After that, she had seemed slightly scared of him, and although Madam Pomfrey was able to put out the small fire at once, she would not let him leave the hospital wing. She kept checking his temperature and feeding him potions and asking him questions. Harry only spoke when asked a direct question, the sounds and smells and lights of the hospital wing too much.

He could hear students walking down the corridor towards the hospital wing when they came in with injuries, and Professor Binns' voice droning on about the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards four floors below. He could smell the elves' cooking in the kitchens before each meal, and taste the individual ingredients in each of the potions madam Pomfrey handed him. The white sheets on his bed practically glowed, lights merging into each other, resulting as a white mass of blurs and brightness that his eyes couldn't handle, like the world was on fire.

Harry couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept returning to the chamber and to Ginny. If he had only been faster, stronger, _better_ he could have saved her. He span his wand in his fingers, remembering Tom Riddle's pale face; the scrape of the basilisk's scales on the floor; the burning pain in his veins.

The last thing he saw before everything went black was dark smoke curling from his hand as his wand crumbled to ash.

The next time he woke, the castle was unusually quiet.

Harry couldn't hear students walking between lessons, or cauldrons bubbling in the dungeons, and the smell of cat was not as strong. Professor Dumbledore explained over a plate of ham sandwiches that the Hogwarts had broken up for the summer early after the events of the year, and the express had left that morning. Gryffindor had won the house cup. Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He would not be coming back to Hogwarts. His wand was gone and the smells and sounds were overwhelming.

By the end of the day, Madam Pomfrey declared that he was healthy enough to go home, and that evening Harry found himself stood outside Privet Drive with his trunk.

The Dursleys hadn't been happy to see him alive, apparently having been told that he had been in a bad accident at the end of term, but one glance at his strange eyes convinced them to stay out of his way. Uncle Vernon hadn't even tried to hit him.

Under the pretence of needing to pack his trunk before he left, Harry had managed to slip away to the library and had... liberated a few books from Hogwarts. When he wasn't wandering around Little Whinging, he was in his room, the lights off and curtains drawn, reading up on basilisks and phoenixes, trying to work out what had happened to him.

The conclusion he came to was not fun.

Phoenix tears self-regenerated until all injuries were healed, and neutralised most poisons and venoms. Basilisk venom on the other hand was so saturated with magic, that it perpetually stayed within its victim's body. Presently, Harry had both constantly running through his veins, Fawkes' tears inundating his body as they tried to destroy the venom. The venom wouldn't leave his system until he died, and Fawkes' tears wouldn't let him die as long as there was venom in his bloodstream. The combined magic saturated his body and changed his physiology, altering his eyes and his senses.

It took Harry a while to get used to the changes. His skin seemed ultra-sensitive, the complete opposite to his vision during the day which had become a blur of colours. All his other senses were now so overloaded that they seemed to compensate for his lack of sight: He could tell where people were standing by the sound of their breathing and the smell of any perfume or deodorant they were wearing. He could cook, using the heat the cooker gave off and the scents of different foods. He could run down the street, listening to the sounds of cars going past and feeling the vibrations people and animals made as they walked.

It had come as a large shock to all involved when Harry had caught on fire when Dudley and his gang were chasing him, and Harry had been careful with his emotions since then, finding that any strong feelings would cause him and his clothes to spontaneously combust.

At night, Harry practiced his new magic in the relative privacy of the dilapidated park in Little Whinging, sunglasses perched on his nose to hide his unnatural eyes and to block the brightness that light had become. He learnt to control his fire and block out the unnecessary sounds and smells.

But always was the constant burning throughout his body, every nerve on high alert for danger, seeming to warn him about possible threats before they happened. The Dursleys left him alone, and although he had no friends in Surrey, Harry was happy, for possibly the first time ever whilst living at Privet Drive.

The first time he had accidentally pulled a cupboard door off its hinges, he had been rather scared of his strength, but since then he had taken to using Dudley's punch bag in the garage, keeping fit whilst also improving his strength and agility.

Ron had not forgiven Harry for being unable to save his sister. He had sent him a letter, angrily detailing how they were no longer friends, and how Harry was an attention-seeking brat who deserved to be locked up.

In anger and desperation, Harry poured more effort into his practicing, mostly for something to do. By July, he had finally worked out a way to fly, by shooting small fires from his bare hands and feet to act as tiny rockets.

Harry zoomed around the park, hidden by the darkness and the trees surrounding him, revelling in the feeling of flying without a broom. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation, and as such did not see the red dart shot from the edge of the treeline hit him square in the chest.


	2. Chapter 2

Pain.

It was all Tony knew.

Pain. Burning. Shouting in a language he didn't understand. Bright lights. Burning. Agony. A cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth and he finally slipped into darkness.

When he woke, it was with a tube up his nose, and a horrible aching pain in his chest.

He was lying on a small camp bed in what looked like a cave, bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.

He coughed and rolled over, and caught sight of a man shaving in a corner of the room. Tony tried to roll over to reach for a glass of water next to the camp bed, but was stopped by a tugging on his chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man said. He spoke English, but with a thick accent. Tony ignored him and glanced to his other side, seeing a car battery next to him, its cables leading into the bandages on his chest. In a panic, he ripped away the bandages, clawing at the metal over his heart. When he could finally see his skin, he followed the cables leading from the car battery to the... device sunk into his chest, the flesh around it red and scarred.

"What the hell did you do to me?" He gasped, clawing at the metal.

"What did I do?" The man chuckled. "What I did was to save your life. I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there's a lot left, and it's headed straight for your heart. Want to see?" He moved across the room and picked up a small plastic bottle, then tossed it to Tony.

He caught it and looked at the small pieces of jagged metal.

"I've seen many wounds like that in my village. We call them 'the walking dead', because it takes about a week for the shrapnel to reach the vital organs."

"What is this?" Tony asked.

"That is an electromagnet, hooked up to a car battery, and it is keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart." The man replied.

Tony looked around the room and caught sight of a security camera on one wall.

"That's right." The man said. "Smile! My name is Dr. Ho Yinsen. We met once, you know. At a technical conference in Bern."

"I don't remember." Tony said. He could feel his breath coming shorter, his chest tightening painfully.

"You wouldn't." Yinsen laughed. "If I had had that much to drink, I wouldn't be able to stand, let alone give a conference on integrated circuits."

"Where are we?" Tony demanded.

Before the man could answer, the sound of the large metal door being unlocked echoed around the room. Tony was hauled to his feet and dragged to stand against one wall. "Put your hands up!" Yinsen hissed.

With a shout, a group of men in turbans and ski masks walked in, shouting rapidly in a foreign language. The only words he recognised were his own name.

"He says 'Welcome, Tony Stark'." Yinsen Tony said, his hands on his head. "'The most famous mass-murderer in the history of America'." He continued to translate as the men in front of them spoke. "He wants you to build a missile. The Jericho missile that you demonstrated." He was handed a photograph of a missile Tony knew all too well. "This one."

"I refuse." Tony replied. He would not make missiles for these terrorists.

The next thing he knew, he was being dragged out of the room, and down a stone corridor to a second, smaller room. Before he could speak, his head was forced into a large basin of water and held there as he struggled for breath. He was pulled back up, and had enough time to gasp and splutter, inhaling much needed air, before his head was submerged again.

Tony lost track of how much time passed. He heard Pepper's voice as he gasped for air, and prayed to God that she wasn't in this place with him.

Finally, he was forced to his feet, a cloth sack over his head. He was frogmarched down a corridor, the car battery keeping him alive cradled in his arms. They stopped, and the bag was pulled off his head. Tony blinked in the setting sun, and looked around at the rocks and tents before him. He was pushed from behind and stumbled forwards into another man, and made his way unsteadily down the slope from the cave they had just exited. As he walked, his eyes fell on guns and weapons and boxes strewn around the area, all of them stamped with the Stark Industries logo.

Yinsen was stood in front of him, and translated when one of the terrorists spoke.

"He wants to know what you think."

"I think you've got a lot of my weapons." Tony said.

"He says, they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile."

Tony tried not to react as the turbaned man walked in circles around him.

"He wants you to make a list of materials. He says for you to start working immediately, and when you're done, he will set you free."

The terrorist smiled and held out his hand.

Tony smiled back and shook it. "No he won't."

"No he won't." Yinsen agreed.

Tony glanced around at the assembled terrorists, before he was forced back towards the cave. The heavy door was closed and locked behind them, and the two were left alone.

Yinsen began moving around, lighting a small fire, and Tony sat, staring into the flames, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"I'm sure they're looking for you Stark, but they will never find you in these mountains." Yinsen said, sitting down next to him. "What you just saw, that is your legacy. Your life's work, in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?"

"Why should I do anything." Tony argued. "They'll either kill me, or I'll be dead by the end of the week anyway."

"Then this is a very important week for you." Yinsen said. He kept glancing between the metal door and a battered pocket watch on a table next to him. "This is not just about you. Think of all the people that are affected by your weapons. Whole communities. Children. Their blood is on your hands."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day Tony's supplies arrived.

He had spent all day drawing out diagrams and doing calculations, and he directed the men around the cave, telling them where to set things up, and what other gear he would need, his requests translated by Dr. Yinsen. The older man relayed his commands, but seemed distracted, glancing out of the door every chance he could, constantly pulling out a battered pocket watch to look at.

"This area needs to be well-lit." Tony said. "I want it at 12 o'clock to the door to avoid logjams. I need welding gear - acetylene or propane, helmets, a soldering set-up with goggles, and smelting cups. Two full sets-" He glanced at Yinsen, who had stopped talking, peering down the corridor the men were coming down. "Yinsen, you good man?"

Yinsen nodded absently. "Yes, yes, smelting cups."

"Ok good, 'cos I need this stuff exactly as I say. It's no good it you telling them something else because you're concentrating on your dinner."

The doctor grit his teeth momentarily, then went back to translating Tony's orders. "Two full sets of precision instruments..."

When the last of the equipment had been placed in the corner of the room and the terrorists had left, Tony finally bent over a missile and unscrewed the cap. Yinsen handed him a mug of coffee and he absently took it, carefully pulling the interior of the missile out to inspect.

He jumped violently when the door opened with a loud clatter and three men walked in, carrying a fourth body between them. They dropped the body on the camp bed then left without a word, locking the door behind them.

Yinsen hurried over to the camp bed, muttering to himself, and Tony slowly followed after him, almost throwing up when he caught sight of the state of the body on the bed.

There was no way to gauge age or gender through the slashes and bruises covering the body's soaked face and torso, but from the size Tony guessed a young woman or possibly a child.

Whoever they were, they would have been in absolute agony, but Tony didn't see how they could still be alive. Their left arm was pointing at an unnatural angle, and there were severe rope burns around both ankles. Their shorts and t-shirt were torn and covered in blood from hundreds of cuts and gashes all over their body. Their face was a pulped mess, nose pointing in the wrong direction, purple bruises spreading over pale skin and a chunk of hair missing where a large burn spread across their scalp, blood mixing with water to cause the rest of their dark hair to stick to their face.

"They're monsters." Tony said, watching Yinsen straighten the broken arm.

"He'll be fine." Yinsen said.

"Fine?" Tony repeated. "I'm no doctor, but generally when people look like... this, they aren't considered 'fine'."

"He will heal. Hand me that cloth."

"He will... what?"

Yinsen looked up. "Heal. Hand me that cloth."

Tony absently passed over a cloth that Yinsen dipped in a bowl of water and began wiping the worst of the blood off the young man's face. Tony jumped, as with a series of sickening snaps the bones in his arms moved into place. He watched, fascinated, as the cuts began to knit together, the bruises slowly faded from deep purple to a browny-green, dark hair sprouted from his scalp, and the swelling in his nose went down.

"What the-"

Now that his face was no longer marred by the multitude of deep cuts, Tony realised that it did not belong to a man as he had expected, but a boy, no older than thirteen, with unhealthily pale skin and dark hair stuck to his scalp by the water.

Yinsen turned to Tony, who was still watching the boy. He noticed a metal band wrapped around each of this wrists, fused with the angry red skin around it.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Pet-Harry." Yinsen replied, getting up and moving over the the fire. "He was here before I arrived. Other than that I know nothing. I don't even know where he is from, other than it was a bad place. They ask me to make a super soldier serum from his blood, or weapons."

"They..." Tony broke off, his eyes still on the small body on the camp bed.

"They do this to him every week." Yinsen said, looking over at Harry sadly. "But he is not broken. He tells me he is lucky." He shook his head. "Come, get some sleep. Raza will want you working straight away tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry woke up, the smell of fresh blood and metal greeted him.

It was warmer than he had ever felt it in the cave, and he unsteadily got to his feet, cradling his sore arm to his chest, and peered around at the blobs that were various boxes and tools and bloody hell those were _missile_s crammed into the space.

"Carefully, Stark." Harry followed the sound of Yinsen's voice, picking his way through the maze the cavern had become. He rounded a large plastic box and saw a man with intricate facial hair sitting up, a glowing device in the centre of his chest.

Yinsen gave a small chuckle. "It's working?"

The man scoffed. "Of course it is. I designed it."

"Your modesty is unrivalled, Stark." Yinsen said, shaking his head.

The man looked up and caught sight of Harry hiding behind the boxes. "Kid's up." He said.

Yinsen's head jerked up towards Harry. "Harry. Come." He waved him over to the fire and pressed half a tin of cold soup into his hand. "I was beginning to worry. You have been asleep three days."

Harry gently heated his fingertips, ignoring the searing pain around his wrists from the metal bands designed to stop him doing just that, warming the tin of soup through as he watched the unidentified man wander around the cave and pull on a shirt.

"That is Tony Stark. Raza captured him three days ago. They are forcing him to make a missile."

Harry examined the hot soup held in his hands, ignoring the sounds coming from further back in the cave where Stark was apparently drawing, muttering calculations under his breath.

Yinsen hovered around Harry as he did every time he returned from his 'meetings' with the ten rings. The kettle began to whistle, and Yinsen quickly poured the water into three metal cups as Tony Stark appeared and sat down next to the fire. The strong smell of the spices he used in the tea assaulted Harry's nose and he sneezed.

"You still haven't told me where you're from." Stark said as Yinsen handed him one of the mugs.

"I am from a small town called Gulmira." Yinsen said.

"You got family there?" Stark asked.

Yinsen nodded. "Yes. And I will see them when I leave here."

"What about you, kid?" Stark asked, looking over at Harry. He started when he caught sight of his unnatural eyes. "Holy... was that the ten rings?"

Harry shook his head in answer to both questions. Stark seemed to be expecting him to say more, but he kept his eyes fixed on the fire in front of him, watching the flames dance around.

Yinsen set a wooden board between himself and Stark, and the two began playing a game Harry didn't know the rules to, using a selection of brass bolts and metal rings.

"So how come you heal so quickly kid?" Stark asked, rolling a pair of wooden dice in a metal cup. "I saw you when those guys brought you in, and you shouldn't have survived the night, yet alone woken up a few days later."

Harry shrugged, not wanting to get into the whole phoenix tears thing. He fingered a scar on his thigh, a mark from the Dursleys.

"You don't talk much, huh?" Tony said.

The rattle from the board game mixed with the men's voices and the occasional pop from the bright fire as Harry drank his tea. He regarded Tony Stark without looking at him, taking in the man's intricate facial hair and the faint smell of expensive cologne that still clung to him.

"Do you have family, Stark?" Yinsen asked.

Tony shook his head.

"So you are a man that has everything, but nothing." Yinsen said. "Trapped with a boy who has nothing, but everything."

Harry noticed a metal poker lying in the fire, and reached out to move it away from the flames. He ignored Stark's shout and closed his hand around the hot metal, pulling the poker out and setting it on the stone floor next to the fire.

Stark had jumped to his feet and immediately grabbed for Harry's hand, pulling it towards him. Harry cringed away from the sudden movement, but Stark had his wrist in a tight grip and was inspecting his palm.

"Why would you grab that? Yinsen, get some..." He trailed off, staring at Harry's unmarked skin. "How..."

Harry pulled his hand back and scooted away from the man, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

"How didn't you burn yourself?" Stark asked, his head tipped slightly to one side in confusion. "That poker had been in there basically all day."

"Heat doesn't bother me." Harry muttered, absently running his hand over one of the bands around his wrist. Yet another person who would think him a freak. Yinsen had never said it, but Harry knew if unnerved him when he healed after the things the ten rings did.

To his surprise, Stark's eyes lit up. "Not at all? Could you keep a fire going for us to smelt things?"

Harry didn't understand what he meant, but he shrugged and nodded.

"Brilliant. That's the worst part of forging things, the heat. If you don't mind having the hottest job..." He trailed off once more, and Harry could almost hear his brain firing off in all directions.

He regarded the man for a few seconds, then cleared his throat and held up one hand. He clicked his fingers, concentrating hard, and a small flame appeared at the tip of his finger.

Tony jumped, but then moved forwards, inspecting the fire. "How big can you make it?" He asked.

"This big." Harry grimaced, doing his best to block out the pain in his arm. He let the flame die when the smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils.

"How hot can you make it?"

Harry shrugged and tapped his wrist. "The bands stop it."

"But without them? How hot could you make the fire? In degrees?" Stark asked.

Harry shrugged. "It melts rock."

Stark's eyebrows rose. "That's like..."

"2000 kelvin." Yinsen finished, catching Stark's eye. "Hot enough to melt palladium." He grinned. "You might just save us yet, Peter."


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Stark was a man on a mission.

He went between drawing diagrams and equations on scraps of paper, to looking at the metal restrictors around Harry's wrists to inspecting the various tools and devices around the cave.

At times, he got Harry to pick up or hold heated bits of metal, as though testing his resistance to heat.

Harry didn't like the grabbing and the close scrutiny, or the bright lights Stark was determined to work under, but he put up with it, knowing that Tony was working on a way to free his magic. He longed for the feeling of using it again, anything to get rid of the cuffs sapping it from his core.

Harry hadn't realised how much he had missed it, but being told that he would be able to use magic again made him sick to his stomach with hope. He didn't know how long he had been hidden away in this cave – or even where the cave was – but however much time had passed, it was too long. He suspected it was months.

For a long time before Yinsen had arrived, Harry had been on his own. Even when the Afghani man had helped set his bones when the ten rings had finished torturing him and taking his blood, he didn't speak much. It had taken him weeks to find out that Yinsen even spoke English.

For five days Harry watched Stark work in silence, ignoring any attempts to pull him into conversation.

Harry didn't like talking. The torture from the ten rings had at one point permanently damaged his tongue and vocal cords; a piece of metal had been imbedded in the back of his tongue and throat that Yinsen hadn't been around to remove. Harry had healed around it, making it impossible to remove now.

He didn't want to form attachments to anyone else that might get hurt or simply leave him, and it had been drilled into his head from a young age that he was to be seen and not heard, and preferably not seen, either. Stark, however, seemed determined to get him to talk, not at all bothered by Harry's eyes or healing ability or the small flames that danced around his fingertips. It was a refreshing change from the Dursley's and Yinsen's obvious fear. It probably didn't help that for the first few weeks or months he had known Yinsen he had told him his name was Peter Granger, the same name he had given Raza and his men whenever they asked. They didn't seem to know he was Harry Potter, but he didn't know if they knew anything about the wizarding world, and he wasn't about to tell them that they had kidnapped one of the most famous people in magical Britain.

Stark was no closer to finding a way three days later when the ten rings stormed into the cave and threw a hood over Harry's head before pulling him down the now-familiar route.

41 steps, then 16 steps. Left through a door, then four steps. He felt a cool breeze from an open door or the entrance to the cave, before he was pulled the final 20 steps into a white tiled room and thrown to the ground.

Harry didn't like to think about the things they did to him in that room, but he was proud that he managed to stay conscious for longer than normal, the knowledge of what Tony Stark was working on giving him the hope and stubbornness to ignore the pain.

When he woke up on the small camp bed in the cave, the first thing he noticed were the bandages wrapped around his hands and forearms. He gingerly pulled one off, and a smile spread across his face for the first time since before he had gone down into the Chamber of Secrets. The metal band was gone, a thick scar surrounded by raw red skin all that was left. He didn't think the skin would ever heal properly – most of the cuts he had received, especially early on that had got infected or had stone or metal in for a long time had left a scar, and he didn't even know how long the bands had been there – but he didn't care. His magic felt closer to the surface than he every remembered it being. He slowly sat up, then flexed his fingers. A large fireball appeared above his palm, reducing his vision to a blur of red and orange as flames licked at his fingers. Harry laughed and extinguished the fire.

He jumped to his feet and followed the man's smell to find Tony Stark at the back of the cave, drawing on sheets of tracing paper. Harry rushed forwards and threw his arms around the man. "Thank you." He said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Thank you." He felt tears leaking from his eyes, and thought he might have accidentally thanked the man in Farsi as well.

Stark hesitantly patted him on the back, and Harry pulled back.

"Thank you." He said once more. He didn't know how to put into words what Stark had done for him; how much better he felt without the bands leeching off his magic.

"No problem." Stark said. "I thought I may as well do it whilst you were unconscious."

Although he was still rather weak, the next day Harry began heating metal and soldering wires for Tony. He stood with his back to the security camera to hide the fact that he wasn't using any equipment, and heated and melted where Tony directed him, wearing a pair of soldering goggles to darken the worst of the light.

"This would go much faster if you tell us what we're making." Yinsen said, hammering out a sheet of metal.

Stark seemed to think for a second, then nodded. "Come on."

He led them down to the back of the cave and gathered the various sheets of tracing paper together, stacking them on top of each other.

"What is it?" Yinsen asked.

"Flatten them out and see." Stark said, then spread out the papers. The drawings on each one lined up and formed a large metal suit, with weapons and armoured plating. "It's our ticket out of here."


	6. Chapter 6

Time passed in a blur of forging and welding and hammering.

Other than when Harry was taken by the ten rings and they ran their 'tests', the three prisoners were left alone, under the assumption that they were building the Jericho missile and not a protective metal suit they were going to use to escape.

Somehow Tony had managed to get Raza to take Harry less frequently, claiming that he was a 'valuable assistant', and so Harry did not have to put up with the torture and blood tests. They had also been given more food, and combined with the progressing suit, Harry began to have hope that they would be able to escape.

Tony had created 2 metal bands to hide the fact that they had taken the ones off Harry. They looked identical to the magical suppressors, but they were nothing more than bracelets, that could easily be taken off.

As the suit was built, they began to develop a plan for the actual escape, using Harry's rough knowledge of how to leave the cave and how many soldiers were on duty at any given time.

It was hard not to build up a relationship with Stark as they worked, talking about their pasts and laughing about what they would do when they left Afghanistan, the man's optimistic arrogance sustaining Harry's hope that they would get out.

It was difficult to measure time, hidden in the cave, but Harry suspected almost three months had passed when the contraption they were building started to take form. They couldn't put it together until they were ready to use it with the possibility that Raza or his thugs would discover it.

Harry was startled away from the fire he was making by a loud crashing outside the door as it was unlocked and a large group of men rushed in, all carrying automatic weapons.

Tony stopped hammering and put his hands over his head as Raza walked in, peering around the space. "Relax."

Harry, Yinsen and Stark slowly lowered their hands, their eyes flicking between Raza and his thugs with guns. One of the men flinched when he met Harry's eye, and in retaliation he stared hard at him, making him shift uncomfortably.

Raza walked up to Stark and inspected the glowing device sunk into his chest. "The bow and arrow once was the pinnacle of weapons technology. It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine; An empire twice the size of Alexander the Great and four times the size of the Roman empire." Raza began walking around the room, picking up Tony's diagrams. "But today, whoever holds the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. And soon, it will be my turn."

Still looking into Stark's eyes he said something in a foreign language.

Harry faintly heard Yinsen's heart rate speed up as he replied. It obviously wasn't what Raza wanted to hear, for he turned and began walking towards the doctor, speaking in slow Pashto.

Yinsen shifted, replying in the same language.

Raza seemed to contemplate his words, then barked out an order. Two men moved forwards and grabbed Yinsen, forcing him to his knees.

Raza was fiddling with the fire, his back to Yinsen as he asked him questions.

Yinsen stuttered as he replied.

Harry had no idea what was going on, but began to panic when Raza turned around, a glowing ember held in a pair of tongs.

"What does he want?" Tony asked as Yinsen's face was forced onto the anvil.

Raza began asking the same question, moving the hot coal towards Yinsen's face as the man gave the same reply. Harry heard both Stark's name and the name Peter.

"What do you want? A delivery date?" Tony asked, moving towards Yinsen. "I can give-"

The assembled men shouted in warning, holding up hands and rifles to stop Stark. He raised his hands and Raza looked up.

"I need him." Tony said. "He's a good assistant."

Raza dropped the tongs and advanced on Tony. "You have till tomorrow to assemble my missile."

Tony nodded, and Harry could smell the sweat beading on his upper lip. Raza gave an order, and three men grabbed Harry, pulling him from the room.

"Tomorrow!" Raza shouted over Tony's protests, locking the door behind him.

**I hope everyone has a happy holiday, and Merry Christmas to everybody who celebrates it!**


	7. Chapter 7

Judging by the faint light he saw as he was carried past the entrance to the cave, Harry had been tortured well into the early hours of the morning. Both Stark and Yinsen were asleep, but woke up when the heavy metal door was unbolted and slid open, and rushed to pick him up from where he had been dropped.

Stark practically carried him over to the camp bed, then set about wiping away the worst of the blood, Yinsen straightening Harry's broken leg.

"How long do we have?" He asked softly. Judging by the strong smell of sweat and metal all over him, he had been up most of the night finishing the suit.

Harry shrugged, then yelped in pain when that jolted his almost certainly dislocated shoulder. "Raza won't be up yet." He grimaced. "At most? Two hours."

Tony nodded, then absently patted Harry's shoulder. "Rest up then."

Harry winced as he stood up, and tried to block out the sounds of the hydraulic crane they appeared to have made to assemble the pieces of the suit, hidden from the security camera by a metal screen.

Tony was tapping at a laptop computer when Harry began to hear Raza's men shouting amongst themselves. He hauled himself off the bed and hobbled over to Stark. "Out of time." He said.

Tony swore, then began pulling of thick leather protective clothing, helped by Yinsen. Harry stood by, unsure how to help. Stark quickly moved to stand under the crane, and Harry began moving the armoured plates into position as Yinsen screwed them together with a handheld drill.

"Yinsen!" The shout came from the other side of the door as Harry lowered the chest-plate over Tony's head. "Peter! Yinsen! Stark!" The man began shouting in a language Harry didn't understand.

"Say something." Tony hissed. "Say something back!"

"He's speaking Hungarian!" Yinsen replied. "I don't know Hungarian."

The men were shouting, more arriving at the door.

They heard the bolts slid open, and the door was pushed forwards, triggering an explosive tied to the frame. Harry ducked as shards of wood and metal flew from the door.

"How'd it work?" Stark asked.

Yinsen glanced at the place where the door and four of Raza's men had been a few seconds ago. "Oh my goodness. It worked alright."

"'course it did." Tony grinned, and Yinsen laughed. The sounds of running and shouting were getting louder now.

"Initialise the power sequence." Stark said urgently, and Harry moved over to the small computer as Yinsen finished screwing the suit together.

"How?" He asked.

"Press function-11." Stark replied, and Harry counted along 11 buttons and hit it. "Tell me when you see a progress bar."

A green blur had appeared on the screen, obscuring anything else Harry might have been able to see if his eyes weren't so sensitive.

"It should be up right now, tell me when you see it."

"Now."

"Ok, press control, I." Stark said. "I, then enter. Yinsen, keep screwing."

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the man, who was staring at the slowly filling progress bar on the screen.

"We need more time." He said softly.

Harry tried to block out the rising sound of soldiers with weapons running towards them.

"What do you mean?" Stark asked.

Yinsen looked between Harry and Stark. "I'm going to go buy you some more time."

"What?" Harry cried.

"Stick to the plan!" Tony said, but Yinsen had already left, picking up one of the dead soldier's rifles. "Yinsen!" He yelled in frustration, and Harry had to keep from clutching his head at the sensory overload: gunshots, shouting, running, the scent of burnt gunpowder.

"Harry, come here. You need to finish this." Stark said, and Harry moved as quickly as he could to finish Yinsen's job of putting the metal suit together. "We're gonna be ok, yeah?" Stark said, managing a weak smile. "We're gonna get out of here."

Harry nodded, wincing as he pulled at unhealed cuts. The lights began to flicker and dim, and soon the only light came from the green glow of the computer as the progress bar slowly filled and the bright white of the arc reactor in Tony's chest powering the metal suit. He tried not to think the worst as Yinsen's shouts stopped.

"You stay behind me." Tony said. "I know you can handle yourself, but you're not in the best shape. You stay behind me and let me do the firing."

Harry ignored him, picking up the helmet and attaching it. The computer gave a soft beep as the progress bar reached 100, and Harry heard Tony take a deep breath.

"Stay here." The man's voice echoed strangely from behind the protective visor.

Harry nodded.

He listened to the clanking footsteps, gunshots and screams, trying to ignore the strong smell of blood that permeated the air. Flexing his fingers, Harry counted to fifty, then limped out into the tunnel, his bare feet padding over the rock.

Tony had cleared the path, and he met no resistance as he followed the trail of bullet casings and screams. He gave a small, impressed whistle at the sight of the mangled metal door lying six metres from its frame, but stumbled past it, leaning against the wall, his ankle and back screaming in protest, his head pounding.

"Yinsen!" Tony's voice sounded close, and Harry began hobbling down the corridor, falling to the floor when a rocket grenade smashed into the wall behind him sending shards of rock flying in every direction.

There was a clank, a whir, and then an explosion as Tony sent an answering missile, and Harry rounded the corner to find Tony kneeling by a stack of sandbags. The scent of blood was thick and cloying, and Harry bit back a sob as he saw Yinsen lying on the sandbags, his torso shredded and breathing laboured.

"Come on. We've got to go. We've got a plan to stick to." Tony said, visor flipped up.

"This was always the plan, Stark." Yinsen replied, voice weak.

Tony shook his head. "You've got a family to get back to, get up."

"My family is dead." Yinsen said, shaking his head and wincing. "I am going to see them now."

"No." Harry said.

Yinsen managed a faint smile. "It's okay, Peter. I want this."

"No!" Harry repeated, tears pricking at his eyes.

"It's okay." Yinsen repeated.

"Thank you for saving me." Tony said.

"Don't waste it." Yinsen gasped. "Don't waste your life. And look after Harry's." He closed his eyes and winced, and Harry heard his uneven heartbeat slow to nothing.

Tony's expression hardened and he flipped down his visor.

Harry gripped the front of Yinsen's shirt, tears slipping down his face. This was Ginny all over again.

Tony stood up and lay a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on kid."

"No." Harry repeated.

Tony's metal arm slipped under his shoulder and pulled him to his feet, and Harry followed him towards the cave entrance, Tony supporting his weight. The growing daylight stung his eyes, and Harry was blinded as they left the cave.

The assembled men in front of them were petrified with terror for almost five seconds when they saw Tony in the suit, giving Harry time to hide behind the bullet-proof metal before they opened fire.

Tony stood still as they emptied their ammunition, a few bullets catching Harry in the back of the leg, then lifted his arm. "Our turn."

Harry moved from behind the man and raised his hands, and together they began spewing fire.

Harry assumed they set light to the tents and the boxes of missiles and the men in front of them. All he could see was red, as fire from his palms joined with fire from Stark's suit which all blended in with the bright sun and red sand. Screams mixed with the smell of burning as they began walking forwards.

"Let's go." Harry shouted over the screams and explosions. His lips were cracked and dry, and he could only imagine how Tony was feeling inside the metal suit.

Tony nodded and straightened, and the rockets in his feet fired off, shooting him skyward.

Harry followed after him, not a moment too soon as the valley exploded underneath them, the hot air currents created battering them from below.

Harry's whole body ached, and saw black spots appearing in his vision.

He managed to catch up with the dark blob that was Tony, whose rockets had stopped firing and was now free-falling.

Harry's arms were exhausted, but he managed to get a hand around Tony's wrist where the metal casing was falling off. His added weight was too much to him to remain in the air, and their landing was more of a semi-controlled crash, hitting the soft sand hard.

Harry heard a snap, and Tony let out a loud "oomph", the metal suit no longer held on at all, pieces strewn around in the sand.

"We made it." Tony said.

Harry managed a weak laugh, and then everything went dark.

**A/N: Hi guys, I know that most of my chapters in this fic are really short, and that's something I'm trying to work on further into the story. I end each one where I think is a good break in the story, but I get how frustrating it is when you get less than 1000 words in an update! This one is a little longer, and I'll ****try**** and up the word count in future, but no promises!  
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far - they really do make a difference. I hope you're still enjoying the fic!**


	8. Chapter 8

When he woke up, Tony was waving his leather jacket under his nose, the strong smells of oil, sweat and blood mingling unpleasantly. Harry pushed his hand away and sat up.

"We survived?" He asked. He could see nothing, the bright sunlight washing everything out in white and stinging his eyes.

Tony laughed and pulled him into a hug. For once Harry didn't mind, and clung to the other man. "We survived."

Tony helped him to his feet, but Harry cried out and fell back down when he tried to walk. He glanced down at his leg, and saw the large bruise spreading up from his ankle, partially covered by crimson blood. It was definitely broken again, but they couldn't stay where they were; a trail of scraps of metal lead right from Raza's valley to where they had landed.

Tony slung Harry's arm over his shoulders, swallowing a groan as he rubbed at the cuts from the crash, and together the two began stumbling across the sand.

Harry didn't know how long they walked.

The sun beat down on them, and the wind picked up grains of sand, flinging them at any bare skin. Tony wrapped his jacket around his head to hide him from the worst of the relentless sun, but neither of them could go on much longer without water, covered in scrapes and bruises.

They fell to the ground and staggered back to their feet, trying to put as much distance between them and their prison, tumbling down dunes and tripping over rocks hidden in the sand. Each time it was harder to get back up, to keep walking.

The cloying, earthy scent of rock filled Harry's nostrils, mixing with the smells of blood and soot that clung to both him and Tony. His lips cracked in the heat.

It was like the desert didn't wan them to leave. The heat sapped any energy they had and the deep sand tugged at their feet as they tried to walk. Dust clung to their skin.

After what felt like hours, Harry collapsed, unable to take another step, pulling Tony down with him.

"Come on kid." Tony said, struggling to his feet. "We got to keep going. Just a little further."

"I can't." Harry gasped. His whole body was in pain; the phoenix tears only able to partially heal an ankle he was still walking on or cuts that still had bits of stone in. He was fairly sure there was a bullet in his calf, each step causing it to burn with agony.

"Yeah you can." Tony panted. "Come on. Just get up. A little further."

Harry let himself be pulled upright. They didn't talk, all of their energy going towards putting one foot in front of the other to climb just one more rise, cross one more stretch of sand. Harry needed Tony's arm around him as much for support as for direction, unable to see anything with his sensitive eyes. The sickly aroma of blood caught in the back of his throat.

The next time he fell, Tony didn't get back up, sinking to his knees. Harry lay where he had fallen, his face half pressed into the sand. He tried to ignore the pounding in his ears and the spots in his vision, all the moisture sucked from his mouth hours ago.

He frowned when the thudding in his head got louder, fairly sure that this wasn't a good thing. He lifted his head from the ground, ignoring the sand that ran down the back of his shirt. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit. "Stark." The man didn't look up. "Tony." Harry dragged himself across the distance between them and gently lay his hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

Tony managed a weak smile. "The man who has everything, and nothing, and the boy who has nothing, and everything." His eyes drooped closed. "What a pair we make."

"No." Harry said.

"What?"

"We're not dying here." Harry said with an energy he didn't have. He forced himself upright, ignoring the pan throughout his body. "You were told not to waste your life." He dragged Tony to his feet, and the two began moving, stumbling along in the deep sand, Harry limping heavily, supporting Tony as much as Tony was supporting him.

The pounding in his ears was growing louder, but he forced it out, focusing on moving forwards. They climbed a dune and paused to catch their breath, and Harry frowned. He turned. "What _is_ that?"

The sound wasn't in his head, he could feel the vibrations in the ground, a pulsing, droning clatter of noise.

Tony had turned, and began shouting. "Hey! Hey!" He held up his arms and waved, laughing and shouting. He grabbed onto Harry, squeezing him tight. "Harry, we're alright. We made it. We made it!"

Harry could make out two dark shapes in the air getting larger as they drew closer, and recognised the steady thrum of helicopter blades. With a new burst of energy, he got back up and lurched towards the landing helicopters, joining in Tony's laughter as his whole body protested.

Five soldiers jumped out of the nearest helicopter towards them, and the centre one dropped to the ground in front of Tony. "How was the fun-vee?" He asked.

Tony laughed, allowing himself to be pulled into a hug.

"Next time, you ride with me, okay?" The man said.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being carefully picked up and carried to the helicopter, flying away from the place that had been his prison for so long at high speed.

They wanted to take them to an Afghan field hospital, but Tony was adamant they return home, and that they stuck together. Harry had no problem with this, and soon the soldiers had gone, leaving him, Tony, and the man Tony introduced him to as James Rhodes, sat in a plane as they soared towards America, Tony's arm in a sling and crutches supplied for Harry once his shoulder had been realigned. They hadn't showered, but had each been given a change of clothes, and Harry had been given a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes that unnerved so many of the soldiers around him, offering a small reprieve from the glaring lights all around him.

They landed in a military airport, and 'Rhodey' helped them both out of the plane. Two paramedics arrived, pushing a wheeled stretcher each, and Harry's nose wrinkled in disgust.

Tony seemed to share his thoughts. "Are you kidding me with this? Get rid of it." He waved the men away, and they hesitantly backed off. Tony put his free arm around Harry's shoulders, seemingly unwilling to be separated as he walked up to a pretty ginger lady dressed in an immaculate suit.

"Your eyes are red." Tony said. "Few tears for your long lost boss?"

"Tears of joy." The woman replied with a small laugh. "I hate job hunting."

"Yeah, well, vacation's over." Tony said. He led the way over to a large car, ignoring the woman's questions about Harry.

"Where to sir?" The driver asked.

The woman replied. "Takes us to the hospital, please Happy."

"No." Tony interrupted, and the woman looked at him like he was mad.

"No? Tony, you have to go to a hospital-"

"I don't have to do anything." Tony said. "Pepper, I've been in captivity for three months. There are 2 things I _want_ to do." He looked at the woman. "I want an American cheeseburger, and I'm sure Harry does too."

"We need to take Harry to the hospital." The woman – presumably Pepper – said, looking at his injuries. Harry had been given a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but he was still badly bruised and there were bandages wrapped around his wrists.

"Harry doesn't need a hospital." Tony said, then turned to look at him. "Do you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Exactly. American cheeseburgers."

"And what else?" Pepper asked.

Tony leant back against the luxurious leather seat. "I want you to call for a press conference. Immediately."

"I want you to call for a press conference, now."

"Call for a press conference?" Pepper repeated. "What on earth for?"

"Yeah." Tony said, before turning to the driver. "Hogan, drive. Cheeseburgers first." The driver pulled away, Pepper reluctantly making the call on her mobile.

Harry frowned at the contraption as she put it back in her purse. "What's the date?" He asked.

Pepper looked at him, her face softening. "November 3rd." She replied.

"Year?"

Pepper frowned. "2008."

Harry swallowed, feeling himself pale slightly.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" Pepper asked. Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He had been taken in July of 2007, meaning he had been the Ten Rings' prisoner for over a year. Pepper turned to Tony. "Are you sure you don't want a hospital?"

"Yes." Tony's reply was unyielding.


	9. Chapter 9

At any other time, Harry would have been fascinated by the burger king drive-thru they got burgers and chips from, but he was still processing the fact that he had been essentially missing for almost two years. In the car, he had noticed the nauseating smell of melting rubber and had firmly clamped down on his emotions before he set fire to his shoes, but now he was stood in a large, bright hall, watching Tony walk up to a podium with a balding man, his mind was free to wander again.

He could feel a headache building from the effort it was taking to ignore the talking and clapping and camera flashes throughout the room, and was vaguely aware of Pepper next to him talking to a man in a suit. He looked up when he heard his name, and caught the man's eye. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to speak.

"What?"

"I was saying the organisation I work for needs to debrief you and Mr. Stark about what happened in Afghanistan." The man replied, smiling kindly.

Harry shook his head and turned to watch Tony.

"I'm sorry?"

"No." Harry said.

"I'll put something in the books, shall I?" Pepper said, resting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Thank you." The man said, walking off.

Harry winced as the balding man's voice boomed out over a microphone before trailing off. He looked down at Tony, who Harry was surprised to see was sat on the floor in front of the podium eating his burger.

"You don't have to stay for this." Pepper said gently to him. "I can get Happy to take you back to the tower before we contact your parents. I'm sure they're worried about you."

"They're dead." Harry said shortly, watching Tony tell the gathered reporters to sit on the floor. Pepper floundered for something to say as Tony turned to the man on his right.

"Good to see you." He said quietly.

"Good to see you." The man replied, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"I never got to say goodbye to dad." Tony said, then turned to the reporters. "I never got to say goodbye to my father." He carefully chewed his burger. "There's questions that I would've asked him. I would've asked him how he felt about what his company did... If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts. Or maybe he was every inch of a man we all remember from the newsreels." Tony paused, and looked out at the crowd of reporters. "I saw young Americans killed, by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. I saw how the weapons I created affected people, and communities. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero-accountability."

A few reporters tried to get Tony's attention, and he nodded to one of them.

"What happened over there?"

"I had my eyes opened." Tony stood up and moved behind the podium. "I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up." Tony looked out over the seated reporters and locked eyes with Harry. "And that is why, effective immediately, I'm shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International-"

Immediately, the assembled reporters and TV crews stood up, shouting out questions and pushing forwards towards Tony. Harry shrank back as Tony tried to continue over the noise. He closed his eyes as camera flash after camera flash filled the room, blinding him.

"-until such a time, as I can decide what the future of this company will be, what direction it should take, the one I'm comfortable with, and is consistent with the highest good of this country, and the world."

The balding man moved Tony away from the podium and spoke over the reporters. "What we should take away from this, is that Tony's back!" He began trying to field questions as Harry heard Tony made his way over to him and Pepper.

"Let's go." He said, and Harry nodded, following him out on his crutches to the waiting car. "Hey, you wanna see the original one of these?" Tony asked, tapping his chest.

"No, Tony, we need to go home." Pepper said. "We need to find Harry's family, and let them know-"

"I'm his family." Tony interrupted.

Pepper sighed. "Tony, you know that's not how-"

"The kid doesn't have a proper family." Tony said as they drove through the New York streets. "But he's got me now. Happy, take us to the factory."

Harry was in a daze up until the car stopped and Tony helped him out. He led him through a door, and they were immediately greeted by a large, glowing blue contraption.

"The original ARC reactor." Tony said. "My dad designed it." He leant against the railing and looked up at the glass machine.

"That's..." Harry asked.

Tony nodded. "It's almost identical to the one keeping me alive right now." He tapped his chest, the glass clinking.

After a few minutes, the balding man from the press conference walked in, a cigar between his teeth. He stood with his hands on his hips, regarding Tony. "Well that went well."

Tony gave a small laugh. "Did I just paint a target on the back of my head?"

"Your head?" The man said, coming closer. "What about my head? What do you think the over-under on the stock-drop is gonna be?"

"Ah, optimistically? 40 points." Tony replied, taking off his suit jacket.

"At minimum." The man sighed. "Tony, we're a weapons' manufacturer."

"Obi, I just don't want a body count to be our only legacy."

"That's what we do." The man interrupted. "We're iron mongers, we make weapons. What we do keeps the world from falling into chaos."

"Not from what I saw." Tony shook his head, looking angry. We're not doing a good enough job. We can do better, we're gonna do something else."

"Like what?" the man asked. "You want us to make baby bottles?"

"I think we should take another look into ARC reactor technology." Tony said, gesturing up at the spinning machine above them.

The man laughed. "Oh come on, the ARC reactor? That's a publicity stunt! We built that thing to shut the hippies up."

Tony shrugged. "It works."

"Yeah, as a science project. The Arc was never cost-effective. We knew that before we built it. Arc Reactor technology, that's a dead end, right?"

"Maybe." Tony said. Harry could hear the supressed humour in his voice, even with his eyes closed.

"Am I right? We haven't had a breakthrough in that in what... 30 years?"

"So they say." Tony said. "Could you have a lousier poker face? Just tell me, who told you?"

"Never mind who told me." The man tapped Tony's chest. "Show me."

"Rhodey or pepper?" Tony asked. "It's Rhodey or Pepper."

"I want to see it."

"Ok, Rhodey." Tony took off his sling and undid his shirt.

The man looked around as if Tony was showing him a big secret, and started when he caught sight of Harry. "Who's the kid?"

"This is Harry." Tony replied. "He was in Afghanistan with me."

"What's with the sunglasses?"

"Doesn't matter." Tony said quickly. "You wanted to see the..." He tapped his chest, showing the man the glowing device.

The man laughed, looking up at the large ARC reactor above them.

"It works." Tony said.

The man smiled and sighed, putting his arm over Tony's shoulders. "Listen to me, Tony. There's nothing we can't do if we stick together, like your father and I. No more of this 'ready fire aim' business. Do you understand me? You gotta let me handle this. We're gonna have to play whole different kind of ball now. We're gonna have to take a lot of heat. I want you to promise me that you're gonna lay low."

"Fine."


	10. Chapter 10

Harry climbed out of the car, staring through the fading light at the building in front of him in shock.

Stark's Malibu house was perched on a cliff top high above the sea, all smooth white stone and glass. There was a helipad off to his right, and no other buildings for hundreds of miles around. The driveway itself had to have been at least 4km long.

He followed Tony into the huge building, and the man gave him a brief tour around the building. "We'll go shopping tomorrow." He said. "We'll get anything you need. Clothes, books, games, whatever. I meant it earlier when I said you're family." Tony showed him into a bedroom. "You can stay in here." He said. "It's furthest from the lab and the kitchen, so hopefully your senses won't... you know..." He gestured vaguely with his hands. "I'm just down the hall, if you need anything, and you know where everything is, and-"

Harry caught his waving hands in his own and stopped him mid-sentence. "Thank you." He tried to put everything he could into those two words; his appreciation for letting him stay here, his gratitude for everything he did inside that cave and during the escape, how much it meant to him that Tony hadn't ditched him as soon as they reached the US. He must have been at least partly successful, or perhaps Tony was just used to deciphering the multiple meanings behind Harry's 1 or 2 word sentences, as Tony gently clapped a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

"I'll be in the lab."

Tony turned and left him on his own, and Harry looked around the room. It was huge, at least three times the size of Dudley's bedroom. One wall was completely made of glass, with an incredible view over the sea. There was a large double bed in the centre of the room, and matching bedside tables, chest of drawers and shelves, as well as a large desk next to the huge windows. A door led to a magnificent bathroom, with dark marble tiles and a bathtub sunk into the floor, and a second revealed a wardrobe the size of the Dursleys' garden shed.

Harry sank onto the end of the bed, his hands running over the unbelievably soft material of the covers. He felt tears on his cheeks and wiped them away, surprised. He didn't think he'd cried since the first week in Afghanistan, and before that... he couldn't even remember. He fingered the clean white bandage that had been wrapped around the raw scar tissue around his wrists by the military doctor and felt a surge of emotions: Anger at the ten rings for kidnapping him. Grief that Yinsen had not made it out of the cave with them. Resentment at Albus Dumbledore for kicking him out of Hogwarts and making it so that he was kidnapped in the first place. Relief that he was finally, _finally_ away from the torture.

His vision blurred through the tears and he closed his eyes, letting them run down his cheeks silently.

The acrid scent of smoke invaded his nostrils. Harry's eyes suddenly jumped open, and he caught sight of dark tendrils rising off him and the bed. He jumped up and ripped his t-shirt off, stamping it out and hastily patting at the smouldering duvet. He looked guiltily at the ash on the pristine carpet and the dark holes in the duvet.

Harry caught sight of a familiar welt across his ribs, a dark mark left from a belt, years old and unhealed by the phoenix tears. There were more across his back, a few creeping around his chest and arms. The TV on the wall opposite him came to life before buzzing into static.

His spiralling thoughts turned to Ginny, and the tears fell faster, that helpless feeling creeping in that he wasn't able to save her, wasn't even able to save himself before the basilisk bit him, securing his future as an even bigger freak. He almost thought it would have been better if Fawkes hadn't reached him in time, if he had died down in that chamber with Ginny. He didn't even know if he could die.

The TV sparked and switched off with a wisp of pungent smoke as countless emotions churned in his stomach.

Harry hugged his knees to his chest. His head was spinning, overcome with feelings and emotions; grief, happiness, self-loathing, disbelief, gratitude, anger, disgust, glee, shock, loneliness, and that overwhelming relief, combined with the newly-restored tingle of magic flowing just under his skin.

He thought about Ron and Hermione, speculating about what they were doing now, and if they had noticed when he stopped writing. Harry wondered if their time at Hogwarts without him had been as eventful as their first 2 years, and gave a small chuckle. The chuckle grew, until he was full-on laughing as he sat on the huge, soft bed, tears streaming down his face.

His throat felt tight, and he rested his forehead on his knees, curling up as small as he could, still sobbing and laughing and feeling unbelievably confused.

Harry jumped as a cold powder settled over his arms and back, and looked up to see Tony pointing a small fire extinguisher at him. His eyes snapped around the room and he realised he had set the bed on fire, smoke rising up from the dark blue duvet and curling towards the ceiling.

"-you alright?" Tony asked, approaching him slowly. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

Harry nodded, grinning. He was the best he could remember feeling in over a year. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing out the white powder, and looked around the room guiltily. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Tony said, eyes not leaving Harry's face.

He was sure he must look a state, tear tracks across his cheeks, fire extinguisher covering him from head to foot, and a huge grin on his face.

"We were calling your name."

It was only then that Harry noticed Pepper stood in the doorway. "I didn't hear you."

Harry didn't need to be able to see the expression on Tony's face to see he didn't believe him.

"Come on Harry, let's get you out of here." Pepper said, walking into the room and taking him by the hand. Harry let himself be lead out as she wrapped an arm around his bare shoulders protectively. It was only then that he noticed he was shaking.

Pepper showed him into another room and through to the bathroom, talking soothingly as she helped him out of the burnt trousers he was wearing and into the shower, then into a pair of pyjama bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt when he got out.

Harry didn't protest as she steered him towards the bed, and thought he was probably asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	11. Chapter 11

When Harry woke up, light was fading outside the windows.

He rolled out of bed and pushed the sleeves of the sweatshirt he was wearing up over his hands. It smelled like laundry powder and Pepper's perfume.

Harry followed his nose to the living room, where Tony and Pepper were sat on a sofa together eating pizza from a delivery. Tony looked up and jumped as he approached, but a smile quickly spread across his face.

"Hey kid. Feeling better? Come sit down."

Harry nodded as he sank into an armchair, and cautiously took a slice of pizza when Tony pushed a box towards him. There was black oil on his hands and forearms.

"You must have been beat." Tony said. "You've been out three days."

Harry's eyes widened, and he saw Pepper shift slightly.

"I got you some clothes." She said. "But we can go shopping tomorrow and get everything you need. Is... do you have any stuff from... from before? Tony said you lived in England. We haven't managed to contact your guardians, but when we do we can see if your things are still there, if you want?"

Harry shook his head, then paused. His trunk would have been in his bedroom in Privet Drive, and although he thought the Dursleys would probably have burned it, if anyone could find out it would be Tony. It would be nice to have his photo album and invisibility cloak. "Maybe."

Pepper nodded. "Ok. Well, tomorrow."

Harry nodded, absently chewing on the pizza. He tipped his head to the side slightly, peering at Tony. He tapped his chest. "New?"

Tony frowned for a split second, then grinned. "Knew it wouldn't get past you. Yeah, I upgraded. This one should last a lot longer and won't get as hot."

Harry nodded, and Pepper just gaped.

"How could you possibly..."

Harry shrugged. He didn't feel like explaining how the device in Tony's chest now smelled more sterile, and the faint humming it gave off was at an even higher pitch, so Harry could barely hear it.

Harry glanced out the window as he ate, watching the dark sea as Pepper and Tony's conversation washed over him. It suddenly struck him just how long it had been since he had eaten something that wasn't out of a tin.

He glanced at Tony. "Can I-" he jerked his head at the door.

"Course you can. This is your home now Harry, I mean that."

Harry stood and crossed to the sliding door leading out onto a balcony overlooking the sea. He breathed in the salty air, closing his eyes and listening to the gentle wash of waves against the cliffs far below.

He felt tears pricking behind his closed eyes once again, and wrapped his arms around himself, fingering scars that had disappeared but would never be healed, letting the sound of the ocean drown out the sounds of agonised screams, angry shouting in foreign languages and the chink of metal on tile.

The metal bar of the balcony railing was cold under his hands as a breeze came in from the sea, ruffling his long hair as it passed over him, taking his worries and bad memories and fear with it as it blew away.

A small smile twitched at his lips as he listened to the sounds all around him; the water crashing against the cliffs, small animals in the forest around the house, the faint hum of electricity behind him. It was all so much quieter than the system of caves in Afghanistan or the bustling suburb that was Privet Drive.

Harry opened his eyes when he heard footsteps behind him, acknowledging Tony's presence with a nod as he came up beside him.

They stood together for a while, both comfortable with the silence.

Harry looked up into the sky, taking in bright constellations unobstructed by clouds or light pollution.

"We're okay now." Tony said quietly. "We're out, and we can look after ourselves, and each other." Harry wasn't sure if he was talking to him or just reassuring himself, but he appreciated it all the same. "We're okay now."

Harry tilted his head, resting it on Tony's shoulder and the man's arm snaked around him, settling over his shoulders, a comfortable weight. They were silent for a while longer.

"I meant it, you know." Tony said. "This is your home. I've found a lawyer; he's coming over tomorrow. I'm going to make it official."

"I... what?"

Tony turned to look at him. "You're not old enough to live on your own; you need a legal guardian, and your current ones deserve to be in prison." Tony said. "I've got a lawyer coming over tomorrow who will start the paperwork of making me your guardian."

"Why?"

Tony looked confused. "What do you mean why?"

Harry's throat felt thick with emotion. "You want me?"

In answer, Tony simply wrapped his arms around the small boy, pulling him into a tight hug. "Don't be stupid, kid." He whispered. "Of course I do."


	12. Chapter 12

Tony had told him that the lawyer was coming over in the afternoon, and so as soon as Harry woke the next morning, he threw himself off the balcony from his room and flew down to the forest by the secluded beach. He spent all morning listening to the nature and flying around and just generally revelling in his freedom. He almost cried again the first time he touched the grass.

He heard a car approaching the entrance to the long driveway, and realised he had been out for much longer than he had thought. The only visitor they were expecting was the lawyer, and so Harry shot back up to the huge house and found his way to the kitchen, then set about making himself a sandwich.

He had to find almost all the components by smell, being able to vaguely gauge what colour each one was, and needed to feel through every single cupboard in Stark's bloody huge kitchen before he found a plate, but it improved his already good mood when he ended up with a sandwich, the first one he had made in over a year – in an unfamiliar kitchen and blind to boot.

He heard Tony come in as he dropped into a seat, and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Lawyer's here." He said.

Tony laughed. "I was about to tell you that. I just let them in the gate." He shook his head and tossed a pair of glasses at Harry who caught them and levelled him with a glare when he realised they were the circular black kind blind people wore. "I can see." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Not really you can't." Tony teased. He sighed. "They'll hide your eyes and explain why you won't be able to read anything they might give you. I haven't told them about your... powers. Figured that was better kept between us."

Harry took a large bite of his sandwich and nodded, shoving the glasses onto his nose. He had to admit that the dark tint helped manage the bright lights a little.

He listened to the sound of a car engine draw closer as he ate, and was loading the empty plate into the dishwasher when Tony lead the two men into the kitchen.

"Harry, this is Franklin Nelson, and Matt Murdock." Tony said, gesturing to each of them. The taller of the two was holding a cane of some sort. "Gentlemen, Harry."

"Foggy, please." The shorter man said, holding out his hand. Harry shook it, then held his hand out to the other, and an awkward silence filled the room.

"He's blind." Both Tony and Foggy said at the same time, speaking for different people.

Harry nodded, dropping his hand. "Hi."

"Hi." Matt replied, and Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "Shall we?"

"Right." Tony said, and headed down the corridor. Harry followed him as Foggy took Matt's elbow, the other man folding his cane up as he allowed himself to be led through the house.

Tony showed them into a softly-lit conference-room type space, with a large oval table surrounded by chairs. He and Harry dropped into seats next to each other, and the two lawyers sat down opposite them, Foggy resting his briefcase on the table.

"Mr. Stark, may I start by thanking you for choosing Nelson and Murdock to represent you in this endeavour." Foggy said. "Whilst your home here is pretty far from our office in Hell's Kitchen, this is a case we couldn't turn down."

"Sure." Tony said.

Question after question followed that, many of them obviously standard ones they had to ask, such as Tony's age, and how much he made in a year. Around two hours in, Tony left to go and get a jug of water for the table.

"Now that Stark isn't in here to influence your answer, we also have to ask if you actually want to live with him, Harry." Matt asked.

Harry nodded.

"He just nodded." Foggy said. "So that's good. He looked pretty certain."

Harry coughed a small, bemused laugh, and Matt waved a hand at his face, indicating his glasses. He seemed to realise that Harry couldn't see that, and chuckled. "Sorry. He does that a lot. It helps."

Harry's eyebrows twitched in curiosity at the subtle change in Matt's heartbeat.

Tony came back in, followed by a robot carrying a tray holding four glasses and a large jug of water. The robot set it on the table as Tony sat down, then reversed back out the door, leaving behind a slightly bemused silence.

"Was that a robot?" Matt asked.

"Yeah." Tony replied. "The only thing he's good at."

"Right." Foggy was still staring at the door the robot had disappeared through.

Matt's hand slowly extended across the table, fumbling around ever so slightly until it touched one of the glasses and he picked it up, taking a drink. "To transfer custody to you, Mr. Stark, we'll have to first prove that Harry's current guardians are unfit to look after him."

"The only thing they're fit for is prison." Tony growled.

Matt ran his hands over the pages in front of him, and Harry supposed they must be covered in braille. "This would be a Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley?"

Harry nodded, his stomach clenching at even the mention of them. His heart raced as he realised that he was getting away from them. This time forever.

"And they are your aunt and uncle?" Matt said. Harry nodded again.

"What happened to your parents?" Foggy asked. "We don't have any information on either of them..."

"They died." Harry replied. "Halloween '95."

"And you went to live with your aunt and uncle after that?" Foggy asked. A pencil scratched against paper as he made a note. Harry nodded.

Matt ran his hands over the papers in front of him once more, his head tipped strangely to the side. "Petunia is your mother's sister, right?" Harry nodded once more. "Is there anything you can think of that we can use in our case against them?" Matt asked.

Harry nodded. He _heard_ his heart rate increase and swallowed.

"Is something burning?" Matt asked, and Harry hurriedly clamped down on his emotions, controlling his breathing before he set fire to Pepper's clothes.

"I don't smell anything." Foggy said. Harry took a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter – Harry. I can't imagine what you're going through right now, or have been through." Matt said softly. "This must be _unbelievably_ hard for you, but anything you can tell us that can help us convict your aunt and uncle gets us one step closer to signing the paperwork that makes Tony your legal guardian."

Harry nodded and gave him a smile before realising the man couldn't see either. Matt however seemed to know, or at least understand, and reached across the table to briefly touch his arm. Harry took another steadying breath, feeling the flames licking at his insides. Tony touched his hand comfortingly and presumably gave him a reassuring look as he stood up.

Harry pulled his borrowed sweatshirt over his head, and turned his back on the table. He heard Foggy's curse, and thought he caught a sharp intake of breath from the other lawyer.

"Dude, I would give anything in the world to have your eyes right now." Foggy said quietly to his partner.

"Six." Harry said softly, knowing they would know what he meant.

"That's got to be enough for a conviction." Foggy said, mostly to himself. "Harry, would it be alright if I took some pictures?" He asked.

Harry just nodded once again. He heard the man stand up and pull something out of his pocket, followed by the shutter sound of a camera as he photographed the scars and welts across Harry's back and torso.

"Thank you." The lawyer said after a few seconds, and Harry pulled his sweatshirt back on and sat down.

"And that-" Foggy coughed. "-that was your uncle?"

Harry nodded.

"What are the bandages on your hands from?"

"That was the ten rings." Tony replied. "They had wrapped metal bands around his wrists."

"What for?" Matt asked.

"Because they're sadistic bastards that kidnap and torture children." Tony snapped. "I don't know."

"Sorry." Matt said. There was a pause. "How... how long were you in Afghanistan?"

Harry knew he wasn't asking Tony. "16 months."

"How about we have a break for a bit?" Foggy asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Harry nodded and gratefully stood up, hurrying out of the room towards the kitchen. Tony followed him, and Harry let himself be pulled into a hug he knew was as much for the billionaire's benefit as his own.

"You okay?" Tony asked softly once he had released him, and Harry nodded, splashing his face with water from the kitchen tap. He frowned slightly, hearing his name in the quiet conversation the lawyers were having a few rooms away.

_"Harry and Stark are in the kitchen."_

_"That poor kid."_ Foggy said. _"It'll be easy enough to declare the Dursleys unfit guardians. You're lucky you couldn't see his back."_ There was a pause. _"What? What's that face for?"_

_"I'm not sure we'll be able to use that in the case."_ Matt said.

"What's up?" Tony asked.

"It's not evidence." Harry replied calmly, jerking a thumb at his back.

"What! Why not?" Tony cried.

Harry shushed him, straining to listen to the lawyers talking. Matt's voice had dropped at Tony's exclamation.

_"...mean it was from Afghanistan?"_ Foggy was saying. _"He told us it started when he was _six,_ Matt. Six."_

Matt's voice was calm compared to Foggy's shout. _"And I believe him."_ He said. "_He was terrified when we mentioned them. His heart rate increased."_

_"You know that's really creepy."_

_"I simply said we can't prove it's _wasn't _the ten rings. He was in Afghanistan for over a year."_

"It could have been Raza." Harry informed Tony. Desperately his brain began firing off, searching for other things the Dursleys did. Now that he was close to being rid of them, he was desperate. He tried to think of anything Ron and Hermione had seemed shocked about when he told them, but it was all so long ago.

He heard Foggy sigh.

_"What about the fact that he's been missing for over a year. Nobody's been looking for him. I checked with UK police; there was no missing person's report filed matching his description. Definitely none for any blind kids."_

Harry fought a laugh at that. He doubted the Dursleys had even noticed he was gone until the leftovers in the fridge ran out.

_"Stark forwarded on any information he had about him. He couldn't find any records." _Harry could hear the confusion in Foggy's voice. _"He got a load of stuff on his aunt and uncle, but it's like the kid doesn't exist."_

Harry glanced at Tony. "You sent information?"

"I tried to find out as much as I could about you and your relatives, and sent it to them, in the hopes that it could speed this process up." Tony replied. "I want everything legal as soon as possible. It's important. You're important."

Harry's throat tightened with emotion.

Tony sighed. "We should go back in." He said quietly. "Get this done." Harry nodded, and lead the way back to the small room. Matt and Foggy stopped talking when they were a few metres away.

"Cupboard." Harry said, as he made his way back to his seat and sat down, the idea having only just occurred to him.

"Pardon?" Matt asked.

"If my back won't... work." He turned to Tony, willing him to understand what he was trying to say. His throat was scratchy and his tongue ached, he didn't think he'd be able to talk much more.

Tony nodded, shifting slightly closer to him and resting a hand on his knee. "He's saying that if the scars on his back won't be admissible in court, there's more."

"More?"

Harry nodded. "Cupboard." He said quietly.

"The scars won't be inadmissible." Matt said. "We just think that the Dursleys might claim that you got them during your time in Afghanistan. We believe you, but there's no way we can prove you didn't."

"I know." Harry said softly.

A silence filled the room. Harry was uncomfortably aware of everybody's breathing, and the steady beating of hearts. Foggy was wearing aftershave, and the prickly menthol smell tickled Harry's nostrils. He sneezed.

"So... cupboard?" Foggy prompted after a while.

"They made him sleep in a closet." Tony replied. Anger coloured his voice. "Their fat oaf of a son had two bedrooms, and Harry was shoved into a closet under the stairs."

There was a moment's silence as the two lawyers digested this. "How old were you?" Foggy asked. "When you first slept in the cupboard?"

Harry shook his head. "Always." The word left a horrible taste in his mouth.

Foggy took a deep breath. "Did they ever lock you in?"

Harry nodded.

"Of course they did." Foggy whispered angrily to himself as he scribbled another note on his pad of paper. Harry didn't think he would have been able to hear him if his ears weren't so sensitive.

"Did you go to school?" Matt asked.

Thinking of Hogwarts, Harry gave a small laugh that he managed to turn into a cough.

"He nodded." Foggy noted.

"For how long?" Matt asked. "Did you start at age 6?"

Harry frowned at shook his head, holding up 4 fingers.

"Four?" Foggy frowned. "But-"

"Kid's British, remember?" Tony said. "I found elementary school records for him up to fifth grade." Harry shot Tony a surprised – and slightly creeped out – look. The man had practically stalked him as soon as they got to the US.

"Those weren't in the e-mail you sent us..." Foggy said, flicking through the stack of papers on the table in front of him.

"I didn't think you'd need them." Tony shrugged.

"If it had turned out Harry's family hadn't sent him to school we could charge them with educational or developmental abuse." Matt explained. "But apparently he went to school up to age 10."

The questioning continued for another two hours, bouncing between Harry, court, Tony, the Dursleys, and Stark Industries. Harry was bored, tired, and his throat was agony. He had said more today than he usually did in a week.

Matt frowned. "You said the Dursleys have a son. How old is he?"

Harry had to think for a second. "Fourteen?"

"You think we need to be worried about him as well?" Foggy asked his partner.

Harry shook his head, scoffing at the idea that the Dursleys would mistreat their darling Dudley in any way. "He's perfect." He said bitterly.

"From what Harry's told me, his aunt and uncle gave their son whatever he wanted, and shoved Harry into the background, making him do housework and leaving him with his cousin's castoffs." Tony said. "They didn't want him, and made that pretty clear to him from a young age. That is, when they weren't pretending he didn't exist."

"In what way?"

Harry levelled the lawyer with a glare. "They don't like me." He said, getting fed up. "They'll give custody. Does it matter?" He swallowed the last of his water, trying to soothe his aching throat. His voice had cracked on the word custody, the hard c consonant catching in the back of his throat.

Foggy glanced at Matt. "If they'd be willing to hand over custody, rather than have it forcibly taken, it would get rid of the need for a court case. And with such a high-profile participant as Stark it's not exactly going to remain secret for long. In fact, we might be able to use the public setting of the case to get them to agree to a transfer of custody."

"How? Harry frowned.

It was Tony who answered. "Well, you said they were all about their image and standing in the community. What would they do if we told them that their names and pictures would be plastered all over newspapers across the world unless they signed some forms that made me your guardian?"

Harry nodded.

"Legally, we can't say it in that way..." Foggy said. "But I'm sure we'll get the message across."


End file.
